


Invisible Scars

by ErraticRhapsody



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Battle Scars, Day Five, Drabble, M/M, light Violence, ptsd mention, shanceweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 12:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8578876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErraticRhapsody/pseuds/ErraticRhapsody
Summary: Hope you enjoyed! Just a small Drabble maybe one day I'll rewrite into something more complex. Wanted to get something out for Shanceweek! Side note: I've not forgotten about Just Friends!!! It's just taking me awhile. I want to actually plan that one out so I don't write myself into a corner. :'3 THANKS FOR READING!!!





	

Time was always moving whether you could feel it or not. How long the group of had been wandering in space was unknown to the young man wandering the halls of the Castle in the dead of night. He had tried to keep record, but found that it only made him miss his home more.

  
Tonight, like many before, Lance was having difficulty sleeping. Normally he'd have gone to pester Hunk with his presence and snuggle up with him, but after the rough beating they had all gotten earlier that day he didn't want to disturb any injuries. So he was onward bound to the other person willing to comfort the blue paladin when needed. A few times before Lance found himself in Shiro’s room for this exact reason. Two out of three times he'd catch the older paladin awake, and simply reading in bed or working on something. Lance wondered if he really slept much.

  
Silently he crept down the hall and over to Shiro’s room. He gave the tiniest of Knicks before opening the door. The room was nearly pitch black aside from the small glow of a nearby nightlight. It was one of the rare moments of Shiro actually being asleep. Lance bit his lip, tiptoeing closer to the bed. He had every intention to just crawl in and make himself comfortable when the other started.

  
Eyes were clamped shut and Shiro had a fist full of blanket. The tuft of white clung to his brow as he fidgeted beneath the covers. Something wasn't right. It was clear that he was having a nightmare. Coming from a large family full of kids, Lance had seen this plenty of times.

  
Gingerly he reached out, brushing the white bangs from Shiro’s forehead as he leaned into the bed. “Shiro..?” He whispered.

  
Everything happened so fast. In a flash Lance felt himself flip and his back make contact with the mattress. Eyes snapped up to look at Shiro and in confusion. That's when he noticed the significant difference. Stormy irises were fogged over and ready to kill. He wasn't here. Shiro wasn't Shiro.

  
Before Lance could open his mouth he felt heat pooling at his throat, tendrils of flame enveloping around his neck. Neon light reflected against high cheekbones, giving the young man's flesh an eerie tint of magenta. Shiro’s grip clamped tighter and tighter while Lance’s breath slowly left him as he gave a small squirm. Smoky eyes leered down at him in blind frenzy.

  
Then they immediately softened and grew wide in horror once realization kicked in. “Lance!”

  
Shiro recoiled as if struck by lightning, the pressure on the blue paladin’s windpipe releasing abruptly. “I--you…!” The black paladin searched for words pupils blown wide. A single bead of sweat rolled down his temple as his hands began to shake. His bare chest heaved shallow breaths, each inhale drawing attention to the glistening of his skin in the dimly lit room. The sheets were coated in sweat from the previous nightmare. Lance paid no mind to the dampness beneath him. Instead, his main focus was on the man in front of him. Shiro was about .5 seconds from losing it.

  
Lance moved, reaching one hand up to brush knuckles against his cheek. The other took Shiro’s prosthetic hand that was now inactive, in his own, lacing fingers together. “Shh, it's okay; just breathe.” The younger paladin cooed.

  
Incoherent stammering fumbled out of the black paladin, the shaking only growing worse the more he tried to speak. Between bursts of fighting to get adequate oxygen Shiro had streamed together something that made sense,“It wasn't you, I swear. I wouldn't have--I...I could have--” he choked, and then there it was…

  
Soft drops scattered onto the sheets. The man's human hand moving to cover his eyes. “It's you. It's really you?” Shiro questioned, tears falling freely. Lance met his emotion without hesitation, and pulled the black paladin closer so that his head could rest against his chest. “Yes. Only me. You're safe, Shiro. It was only a dream; I promise, they can't get you anymore.”

  
Shiro buried his nose into Lance’s chest, muffling quiet sobs further. “They were here. They--I almost...I could have--”

  
“Shh, it's okay. It isn't your fault,” Lance interrupted delicately, “It's over now. I'm here. I've got you, Shiro.” As if to prove a point he gave a small squeeze. Large arms wrapped around the lithe body cradling him, a deep warmth bubbling between them. Shiro held onto Lance as if his life depended on it. He was the only thing grounding him in this moment.

  
Slender fingers snaked up Shiro’s back, over patterns of scars--fresh and old--before landing at the top of his head. Though there wasn't much hair to thread his fingers through, Lance still stroked soothingly against what was there.

  
All but Shiro’s muffled crying was silent within the black paladin’s quarters, until a quiet, song fell from the brunette’s lips.

  
“Come, stop your crying…” His voice cracked out, almost forced from trying to make sure his voice remained gentle in the darkness.

  
“...take my hand; hold it tight.”

  
Lance knew it was cheesy as all get out, but it was the only thing he could think of. Out of all the songs in the universe, this one.

  
“I will protect you, from all around you…”

  
The sobs began to subside as the next line of the song came up, “I will be here, don't you cry.”

  
There was a sniff and then the sound of bodies sifting. Rather than Lance being the one to cozy up against Shiro’s strong chest the former had opted to be the bigger spoon. Shiro’s cheek rested in the crook of the brunette’s shoulder and neck, one arm wrapped over him. Lance kept one arm around his teammate while the other rested on his stomach.

  
Blue eyes scanned over the divots along Shiro’s skin, traveling to where flesh met tech. Scarring littered the black paladin’s body from over the years. The hand on his stomach moved to run along the galra tech arm. “Don't worry, Shiro,” Lance smiled, “I will never be afraid of you. You will always be my hero.”

  
Some scars may never heal. Some may always remain imprinted in our minds and in our hearts. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Just a small Drabble maybe one day I'll rewrite into something more complex. Wanted to get something out for Shanceweek! 
> 
> Side note: I've not forgotten about Just Friends!!! It's just taking me awhile. I want to actually plan that one out so I don't write myself into a corner. :'3 
> 
> THANKS FOR READING!!!


End file.
